


Light On The Land

by krityan



Category: Monster Hunter (Video Games)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2018-03-02 09:19:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2807396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krityan/pseuds/krityan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A hunt in the volcano</p>
            </blockquote>





	Light On The Land

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lynxiae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lynxiae/gifts).



The heat of the volcano was oppressive. Even from the base camp, every seismic rumble was accompanied by a hot, humid wind. A few lumbering Aptonoth flowed through the thin forest, brushing against trees and pulling at the sparse greenery. The hunter pushed past them, pulling their item pack closer and moving quietly to avoid spooking the herd.

They skirted carefully along the base of the peak, slipping through the steam. There was an acrid smell to it all. The thick sulfur and ash drowning itself against the brine of the sea. The shore crept visibly further and further out as the lava solidified itself in the sea like tar. The hunter breathed the smell in deeply, and fixed their eyes on the lava, adjusting their vision to the burning glow. The cold drink went down warm and viscous, but the heat lifted and faded all the same. The hunter coughed, and pushed the bottle down to the bottom of their bag. Quickly, they took a mental inventory of its remaining contents. There wasn't much worth in worrying-- there wasn't much good in turning back from this point. The contract hadn't come cheaply, but the bounty was generous in comparison. The peak held enough valuable material to recoup the loss in the worst case scenario. As a well-timed reminder of the ideal, a low rumbling roar from somewhere inside the cave mouth leading into the mountain's belly pushed through the air. Dragging in one last steam-stained breath, the hunter pushed forward and into the heat.

It was difficult not to stagger back outside immediately. They had hunted here before, but there was no adapting to the bizarre environment it really was. It was impossible to define the light inside. There was no natural light. What sunlight could have streamed into the cave was diffused away by the steam outside, and further diffused by the smoke pushing towards the winds outside. Instead, the sun was replaced by the lava and flames stretching and working their way down long rivulets through the mountain. Distorted waterfalls and geysers splashed shadows against shadows, playing against the surging motions of the Uroktor swarming through the rocks. The hunter unsheathed their greatsword, wary of the unpredictable motions of the small wyverns around them. The weight was comforting, despite the burden. 

The caution paid off almost immediately. The ground collapsed into a slurry of rock and flame, and the bony beak of one uroktor erupted out with a high pitched screech. The swing to block against the attack was a wild, last second attempt, but a successful one. The hunter skidded backwards from the force of the impact. The uroktor fell to the ground, writhing and clacking before diving away again.

The ground continued to churn and melt, but the area remained without sign of the large prey the hunter was here to pursue. They skirted the wall, moving away from the commotion and carefully making their way deeper into the caves. The roar they had heard earlier made it clear that the guild's intelligence was good: there was definitely a Brachydios active somewhere in this mountain. With any luck, it was somewhere nearby.

The hunter looped through the system of caves, mentally mapping the terrain and eliminating small threats where possible. It would be basically inexcusable to be tripped up by a felyne during a hunt like this. It was surprising sometimes, the amount of life that managed to thrive inside the mountain.

Turning back and beginning a second pass through, it was easier for the hunter to keep a sharper sense of the area-- they were used to the constant low rumblings and hisses produced by the volcano itself, and their eyes were used to the smoky, sulfuric air. They moved through carefully, staying concealed behind jutting rocks. Finally, there was a detectable difference in the air. A stale smell that was clearly out of place within the rocks of the mountain. The dragging rasp of claws on stone confirmed the presence of a large wyvern at last. The hunter crouched down, leaning carefully to the side to better evaluate their situation. 

They hadn't been noticed yet, at least not completely. The dark-blue brachydios was lounging over a freshly eaten carcass, nudging over the skin and horns left. The out-of-place smell surged as it raised its head high into the air, taking in a deep, snorting breath through its nose and half-open jaw. It clamped its mouth open and closed a few times, snorting as it tasted the surrounding air. The wyvern licked at its arms, evening out the thick, green mold coating them. Lumbering back to its feet, it left thin, popping trails of slime in its wake. Huffing and swinging its head back and forth, the wyvern slowly began homing in on the hunter's hiding place. Taking advantage of a momentary blind spot, the hunter ducked down and quickly rolled to their left a few feet.

There wasn't much time left that was worth buying. Leaving their excess gear behind the outcropping, they moved out from cover, looping behind the brachydios. The wyvern spotted them as they moved, but their reaction was slow. The long moment it took the wyvern to turn to face the hunter was just enough for the hunter to aim a hard swing of their sword against the armored plate of the wyvern's right flank. The kinetic return of the strike pulled back quickly into another hit. Paired with the brachydios' own pivoting momentum, the force sent the wyvern crashing to the ground with a roar of protest. It recovered its balance quickly, however, driving its forearms into the ground and leaping forward through the explosion at a disorienting pace. The attack connected with the hunter's chest, throwing them back and covering them in the thick green slime. The hunter gasped, hesitating a moment to breath before collecting themselves enough to stand. The slime gave off an innate heat but, despite the discomfort, it didn't present an immediate danger. 

The brachydios stepped back, snapping its jaw. Shaking its head, and sending droplets of slime scattering to the ground. With a rumbling, croaking noise it leaned low to the ground, preparing for another charge. The hunter watched the wyvern's movements carefully. Brachydios always stuck to head on attacks. They were confident predators, and weren't used to being challenged. The wyvern's club-like tail slowly stilled, like a pendulum coming to a stop. The wyvern's weight was resting on its right leg, and now it had found its balance. The attack was coming from the left fist, the hunter tightened their grip on their sword. They could avoid that. Counter-attacks flooded their mind, but it was going to be a matter of reaction, in the end.

Finally, this hunt had begun.


End file.
